Author: Antenna

Beyond Adlestrop

This is my review of Now All Roads Lead to France: The Last Years of Edward Thomas by Matthew Hollis.

I read this as much to find out about a period, in this case the development of the “New Poetry” of the early C20, as about the poet in question, in this case Edward Thomas. However, this biography requires a strong interest in Thomas and familiarity with his work.

A poet himself, the author is good on showing you Thomas composed, striking out lines and on occasion suffering from “poet’s block”.

I was interested to see how the now famous poets of the day formed a kind of community of fellowship, rather than work in isolation.

The friendship with Robert Frost which helped move Thomas from a prose writer to a poet caught my attention. Even more so, I was intrigued by the depressive personality which Thomas himself felt might be a necessary condition for his work, raising the question of whether he could have been so creative in a modern age where drugs are so widely prescribed as a solution.

The author is very honest in showing how the generally gentle and sensitive Thomas was often driven to thoughts of suicide, cruel words and neglectful treatment of his patient wife Helen: one can understand his pent up frustration over having been trapped in marriage after getting her pregnant while still an undergraduate, missing out in the process on the expected First in History which would have given him an academic career and the financial security to look after his three children with the freedom to write creatively without worrying about having enough money.

Although I wanted to admire this book, it did not engage me as it should have done. I think this was because of the rather disjointed structure, and the tendency to cram too many disparate famous names and unassociated facts into a passage.

However, I think that lovers of Thomas will enjoy it and it has certainly left me with the intention of reading more of his poetry.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars


Now All Roads Lead to France: The Last Years of Edward Thomas

The price of truth

This is my review of Mafia State: How One Reporter Became an Enemy of the Brutal New Russia by Luke Harding.

After mastering Russian with impressive speed, Luke Harding spent about four years based in Moscow as a foreign correspondent for "The Guardian". Making the most of opportunities to travel which he clearly found fascinating, Harding was more energetic and courageous than many of his colleagues, in reporting on the growth of corruption and undemocratic "vertical power" under Putin, crushing the opportunities opened up by Gorbachev's "perestroika". He describes unflinchingly how former KGB agents (siloviki) have gained key positions in the Kremlin, with the recently formed FSB (Federal Security Service) as insidious as the KGB and if anything even more of a law unto itself.

Regular readers of the "quality press" will already know how journalists like Anna Politkovskaya have been shot in broad daylight for investigating and writing about the truth, how Litvinenko was poisoned in London by Russians who brought polonium into the UK to put in his tea, and how the "oligarchs" who made vast fortunes out of Russian privatisation are now salting away their wealth in places like London. Harding builds on all this to explain how Russia is hardening back into an authoritarian state in which senior politicians enrich themselves, links with international organised crime grow, freedom of speech is crushed and the gaps between rich and poor widen.

Harding's outspoken stance attracted adverse attention from the FSB from the outset. He repeatedly found evidence of his flat being entered – not to steal anything, but leaving a window open next to his son's bed in a high rise flat, tampering with a computer screen, even following the old trick of placing a sex manual beside his own bed – weird signals to unnerve him and his family. Eventually, he was told he would have to leave because of some irregularity in his paperwork, a convenient and overused charge, and he was refused entry, his visa stamped "annulled" on a return flight to Moscow. Perhaps Harding's cardinal sin in the eyes of Putin and his henchmen was the journalist's inevitable association with the US embassy cables critical of Russia published as "Wikileaks" in "The Guardian".

"Mafia state" is written with the air of breathless haste of an article written to meet a deadline, but, as a book, requires more careful editing. Passages often seem disjointed, and although the chapters are themed, they tend to dodge back and forth in time rather confusingly, with continual use of the present tense for past events an added distraction. Harding's courage may include a touch of foolhardiness, and his apparent surprise at being thrown out of the country appears a little naive.

In the interests of balance, he could have shown a greater understanding of the fear, ignorance, insecurity or conditioning which may explain the lack of democracy and suppression of freedom in the Former Soviet Union. Also, perhaps we are not quite as politically and even morally superior as we like to assume.

I would have liked a bit less on Harding's family members (details no doubt included to bring home the reality of the harassment they suffered in Russia) and more on the background to some of the issues covered, in particular the political upheavals in the various outlying republics. A few more maps would have been invaluable. In fact, I found some good ones on Google images which increased my grasp of the geopolitics a good deal.

Overall, this is an important record of some alarming trends of which we need to be aware, even as our leaders are in the invidious position of turning a blind eye because of the perceived need to work with Russia on the world stage, and Harding has done us a service in putting himself on the line to expose the truth. I also have him to thank for introducing me to the wonderful "Peredvizhniki" painters who captured the beauty of C19 rural Russia.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

Mafia State: How One Reporter Became an Enemy of the Brutal New Russia

Lundi comme tous les lundis

This is my review of Kiffe kiffe demain (Le Livre de Poche) by Faiza Guene.

Kiffe Kiffe Demain (Same Old Tomorrow) is notable for being the work of Faïza Guène, written when still a teenager and making use of her experience as a girl of Algerian origin growing up in Paris.

The short, journal style chapters record the thoughts of Doria, a fifteen-year-old girl living in a grim tower block in a Paris suburb, understandably bitter because her father has returned to Morocco to find a new wife who will hopefully give him a son. Her illiterate mother struggles to make ends meet with a hotel cleaning job, where the racist boss calls all the Arab women "Fatima" and the Chinese workers "Ping Pong". Forced to accept charity from neighbours and buy untrendy clothing at cheap sales, Doria and her mother have to endure visits from a social worker, while the teenager is also required to visit a psychiatrist to improve her withdrawn behaviour, and low school grades.

Doria is far from a tearaway – she frantically cleans the cooker to pass muster when the social worker pays a "spot check" visit, and dresses as her mother wishes. Yet, she is quietly subversive in her private thoughts, and is drawn to unconventional people like the local drug-dealing dropout Hamoudi, who challenges the system, and quotes Rimbaud's poetry at her, encouraging her to better herself.

Doria is inevitably naive in many ways, and her dreams and reactions are generally couched in terms of the cartoons, soaps and American films she has absorbed on the TV. Her language is often crude – a weird mix of Arabic and French "verlan" – leading her to comment on how she has to make an effort to speak correctly to her "shrink" since they are "not really on the same wavelength".

There are some moving moments in the book, as when she takes her mother to see the Eiffel Tower for the first time, although it is only a short ride from home, but they meekly accept that they cannot afford the tickets to climb to the top. On another occasion Doria tells us that her eyes are like her father's so that when she looks in the mirror she sees his nostalgic look – an admission that he has been pulled back to Morocco partly through homesickness. When she can look in the mirror and see only herself, she will be cured.

The book is revealing on the status of women in Arab communities. It is interesting that three of the young women mentioned manage to escape into careers or relationships with men on equal terms – but at the price of losing contact with their roots, at least for a while.

Although the author has probably been seeking realism in plodding through a succession of mundane events, the plot is very slight and tails off at the end, with even the final note of optimism seeming rather woolly and doubtful. Most of the characters seem somewhat underdeveloped and two-dimensional, all described through Doria's eyes rather than breathing with a life of their own. What makes the story bearable is Doria's sharp-eyed observation of life, with her wry humour.

This book has been so popular that it must appeal to teenagers, but I think they deserve something a little more challenging. Guène has plenty of time to progress to this, but in the meantime I only read to the end to practise my French and learn a bit more of the "argot" which increasingly divides the generations on France.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars

Kiffe kiffe demain (Le Livre de Poche)

The Revenge of the Loo Brush

This is my review of Fear and Trembling by Amélie Nothomb.

"Fear and trembling" describe the behaviour expected of the Japanese on entering the presence of their Emperor, when he was still regarded as a living god. These extreme emotions were still found to apply when Amélie Nothomb took up a year's contract in 1990 as a translator in the authoritarian, anti-individualistic, inward-looking Japanese corporation of "Yumimoto". The shattering of her illusions was all the more painful since this young Belgian had lived happily in Japan as a child.

In the semi-autobiographical book based heavily on her experiences, Amelie describes her humiliating descent through a series of tasks, ending up spending months as the lavatory attendant on the forty-fourth floor. The decision to endure this fate rather than resign is her only form of retaliation, since her ludicrous demotion reflects badly on her boss. The only way the other staff can show sympathy, if not solidarity, is by boycotting the loos in her charge.

I was torn between frustration through not knowing how much of this parody is true or just very exaggerated and unsubtle, irritation over Amélie who is clearly a pain in the neck at times and brings some of her troubles upon herself, and a sense of unease over the very negative, one-sided portrayal of the Japanese. Amélie chooses not to mention her life outside work at all, which gave the story a very narrow, claustrophobic quality, which in artistic terms could be thought quite effective.

Nothomb, who is on her own admission quite eccentric and clearly enjoys attention, has become something of a cult novelist with some, but is considered by others to be overrated. I tend to agree with the latter view. In her crude and unhelpful treatment of cultural differences, revenge and self-promotion seem to be the main objectives.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars

Fear and Trembling

Losing Face

This is my review of Stupeur Et Tremblements (Ldp Litterature) by Amelie Nothomb.

"Fear and trembling" describe the behaviour expected of the Japanese on entering the presence of their Emperor, when he was still regarded as a living god. These extreme emotions were still found to apply when Amélie Nothomb took up a year's contract in 1990 as a translator in the authoritarian, anti-individualistic, inward-looking Japanese corporation of "Yumimoto". The shattering of her illusions was all the more painful since this young Belgian had lived happily in Japan as a child.

In the semi-autobiographical book based heavily on her experiences, Amelie describes her humiliating descent through a series of tasks, ending up spending months as the lavatory attendant on the forty-fourth floor. The decision to endure this fate rather than resign is her only form of retaliation, since her ludicrous demotion reflects badly on her boss. The only way the other staff can show sympathy, if not solidarity, is by boycotting the loos in her charge.

I was torn between frustration through not knowing how much of this parody is true or just very exaggerated and unsubtle,irritation over Amélie who is clearly a pain in the neck at times and brings troubles upon herself, and a sense of unease over the very negative one-sided portrayal of the Japanese. Amélie chooses not to mention her life outside work at all, which gave the story a very narrow, claustrophobic quality, which in artistic terms could be thought quite effective.

Nothomb, who is on her own admission quite eccentric and clearly enjoys attention, has become something of a cult novelist with some, but is considered by others to be overrated. I tend to agree with the latter view. The novel could have produced a much more nuanced, informative, thought-provoking analysis of cultural differences. However, this slim novella with big print is a quick read, and will develop your French skills (useful idioms and colloquialisms) if read in the original.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars

Stupeur Et Tremblements (Ldp Litterature)

Gold dust beneath the mounds

This is my review of Our Mutual Friend (Wordsworth Classics) by Charles Dickens.

What would I make of the first novel by Dickens that I have read for years? I was struck by how much it is Victorian soap-opera-cum-sitcom.

At times, I found almost unbearably irritating the hammy theatrical caricatures, the convoluted prose with catchphrases, the mawkish sentimentality over children particularly when sick, deformed or about to die, the patronising treatment of a plump, dimpled young heroine over-attached to her father, and the probably unintentional anti-semitism in that the Jew in this case is portrayed in a sympathetic light. These are all modern-day criticisms of an accepted Victorian style, yet I am sure that George Eliot, Anthony Trollope, the Bronte sisters, Thomas Hardy and even Wilkie Collins, were not quite so "over the top".

Beneath all this, there lies an intriguing main plot. John Harmon returns from years spent abroad to claim the inheritance left by his harsh and uncaring father. Reluctant to comply with the odd condition of the will that he must marry Bella Wilfer whom he has never met, he decides to "go missing for a while" to gauge what sort of person she is. Then, a body dragged from the river by Gaffer Hexam is identified as John Harmon's.

The main plot is enmeshed in a series of interconnecting sub-plots with different degrees of parody, likely to appeal to a variety of readers. I was most taken with the effete Eugene Wrayburn's attraction to a beautiful working class girl, much to his own surprise and that of his close friend Mortimer Lightwood. Eugene's rival in love, the similarly wonderfully named Bradley Headstone is an overintense schoolmaster, driven to madness by jealousy and frustration over Eugene's superior, mocking wit and contempt.

I found other threads laboured and tedious, such as the socially aspiring Veneerings with their "bran new" possessions and their endless dinners for suitable members of society, including Twemlow, invited so often because of his social connections that he is likened to one of the spare leaves in the dining table. I realise that this is part of Dickens' attacks on the snobbery and false values of the middle and upper classes. His ranting over the rigid workhouse system, which frightens away "the deserving poor" who prefer to die instead in proud destitution, hits home.

Dickens gives us vivid descriptions of how ordinary people lived in Victorian times, and may in fact have known more about this firsthand than some of the other famous contemporaries noted above.

He also produces striking evocations of the choking London fog and the unspoilt beauty of the countryside surrounding the city. The opening chapter conveys a strong sense of the sinister, Hexam finds a body in the Thames without this being spelt out specifically, "the ripples passing over…what he had in tow……were dreadfully like changes in expression on a sightless face". Dickens writes some profound studies of the shifting emotions of most of his main characters although some, like Mrs Wilfer, her daughter Lavvy and sidekick suitor George Sampson remain increasingly tedious pantomime parodies.

The changes in popular language are also fascinating: "shepherds both" meant inexperienced, "hipped" was depressed, "galvanic starts" were electric shocks, and so on.

Trollope parodied Dickens as "Mr. Popular Sentiment" and an anonymous critic found "Our Mutual Friend" to be "wild and fantastic, wanting in reality, and leading to a degree of confusion which is not compensated by any additional interest in the story…..the final explanation is a disappointment". Yet there is no denying Dickens' ability to appeal to a mass audience and become over time the best-known English novelist.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

Our Mutual Friend (Wordsworth Classics)

Culture Clash

This is my review of Martha Marcy May Marlene [DVD] [2011].

The combination of names "Martha", "Marcy May" and "Marlene" reflects the "different faces" and mental confusion of Martha, a young woman who has drifted into life in a cultish commune in the remote Catskill Mountains. Will we ever learn how or why? The film begins with her escape from the community to take refuge with her conventionally middle-class, materialistic sister and her new husband.

The film is unusual in cutting continually back and forth between her life with her sister, in which Martha becomes increasingly more withdrawn and disturbed, and the two years spent in the commune, under the influence of the charismatic but at times menacing, possibly psychotic Patrick, who reminded me of tales of Charles Manson. You need to concentrate hard, not only because of the fragmented storyline, but also owing to the "naturalistic" filming technique, in which people often mumble as in real life, take part in normal, mundane activities and drift across the hand-held lens, perhaps appearing fleetingly at one edge of the screen. Occasional acts of violence erupt suddenly. At times, it has something of the "amateurish" visual quality of "The Blair Witch Project". Much is implied and little specifically stated.

Martha's problems of adapting to "normal life" are portrayed well, together with her relatives' predictable reaction, as when she bathes naked in the lake because that was what she did at the commune. The clash in their values is made clear. One's perception of the commune gradually darkens. At first, it just seems a throwback to pre-female equality days, as we see the women waiting to eat after the men, or the former selecting clothes off a communal rack. Then there is the shocking scene of Martha's ritual initiation to sex with the leader, and so it all gradually gets worse as we come to understand the reasons for her acute distress, complicated by the fact that she is genuinely drawn to an unmaterialistic, commununal way of life.

Although the idea behind the film is interesting, I do not feel that it reaches its full potential. It is too slow-paced and confusing at times and although I do not expect everything to be neatly sewn up, the ending left me dissatisfied.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars

Martha Marcy May Marlene [DVD] [2011]

New Take on Vertigo

This is my review of The Woman in the Fifth [DVD].

The opening scenes promise a moving and intriguing drama as we are introduced to the confused and dysfunctional world of Tom, an American lecturer and writer, estranged from his French wife and barred from seeing his small daughter. He gradually falls under the spell of Margit, a mysterious older woman, played by Kristin Scott Thomas, "the woman in the fifth" by virtue of her address, and possibly something else as well. In the background we see the initially plain, childlike Polish waitress who who may bring Tom a truer peace than Margit,

Proceeding at a slow pace, with lingering shots of distinctive faces, a balcony with a blurred suggestion of the Eiffel Tower in the background, red insects on dark tree bark, threadlike spiders spinning webs in a police cell, this film weaves a sense of tension, even menace, and begins to insert surreal moments between scenes of clear rationality.

When it ended quite abruptly after little over 80 minutes, I was left feeling cheated, trying to work out exactly what had happened, wondering what clues I had missed, but not doing so too hard since it seemed that the director had resorted to the realms of the supernatural, or madness, to provide a denouement. This reminded me afterwards of Hitchcock's "Vertigo", recrafted for the present day.

The film is based loosely on a novel which seems to have prompted mixed reviews and perplexed readers in a similar fashion.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars

The Woman in the Fifth [DVD]

Riding the V Train to Zengeance

This is my review of Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem.

In this Chandler-inspired tale, small-time crook Frank Minna selects a group of teenage orphans, "Motherless Brooklyn" to be his "men". When he is murdered some years later, one of these, Lionel Essrog, takes it upon himself to find the killer of the man who has become a father figure, and who empathised with his little understood Tourette's Syndrome which he nicknamed "Terminal Tugboating" – not knowing when some "verbal gambit was right at its limit" – even giving Lionel a book on Tourette's to help him to manage his condition.

What sets this book apart is the author's ability to enter into the mind of a person with Tourette's, and sustain this through more than three hundred pages of narration. I have no idea how accurate this is, but we come to accept Lionel's need to shout and play aloud with words continually to relieve his inner tension, his obsessive need to count things, to have everything in fives if that is his number of the moment, to touch people even if strangers, all of which makes him appear crazy, odd, an object of disgust, often insulted and underestimated even by those who should know him well, although we can see the tragedy of the intelligence and sensitivity trapped beneath all this.

This book is likely to divide opinion sharply. After I had adapted to Lionel's conversations peppered with gibberish wordplay – often with a rational thread to it – I found the writing original and often very funny with its wry New York humour, at times moving, insightful and poetical, creating a vivid picture of the character of Brooklyn and its residents – Italian makers of mouth-watering sandwiches; sinister old mobsters called Matricardi and Rockaforte, which Lionel transforms into wordplay as "Bricco and Stuckface"; beat cops who "dislodge clumps of teenagers" with a terse "Tell your story walking!" Yet at times, the prose seems too contrived, and Lionel unbearably irritating with his endless references to "ticcing" (having a nervous tic), although it is no doubt part of the author's intention to create understanding and sympathy for an apparently unappealing character.

About two-thirds in, I began to have concerns about the plot. Tension gives way to farce in scenes such as when Lionel is bundled into a car, only to note that his kidnappers all wear dark glasses with the price tags still attached, giving, him, of course, a desperate desire to touch them. I do not find Frank's brother Gerard a believable character. The arrival at the final denouement seems to me rather clunky and underwhelming, as if all the author's efforts have gone into writing brilliant and unusual prose, rather than plotting a satisfying detective thriller. After having worked so hard to keep up with Lionel's flights of verbal fancy, it is disappointing to have the plot explained with such pedestrian clarity at the end.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

Motherless Brooklyn

Because it’s there

This is my review of Into The Silence: The Great War, Mallory and the Conquest of Everest by Wade Davis.

There is no need to be a mountaineer to appreciate this account of the early attempts to scale Mount Everest. Wearing a Tweed jacket, making reluctant use of heavy oxygen canisters because he had seen their benefit in action, but lacking the nylon ropes, hi-tech crampons and other paraphernalia now available to reach the summit, George Mallory and his companion Andrew Irvine disappeared in 1924, leaving the tantalising question as to whether they had managed to reach the top.

This is less a biography of Mallory, more a study of the exploration in the context of the 1920s, in particular the grim legacy of the First World War, its horror and folly described here with particular harsh clarity: the British Establishment saw the conquest of Everest as an antidote to what Churchill called "a dissolution..weakening of bonds…decay of faith" plus climbers like Mallory diced with death quite casually having seen it close at hand so often but somehow survived the trenches.

The British Empire seemed to dominate the world, although the cracks were starting to show, so it was still possible for Curzon, Viceroy of India, to assert an Englishman's natural right to be first to the top of Everest! A skilful climber was forced out of one team because he had been a conscientious objector.

Since what is now known to be the easier route through Nepal was barred, the expeditions of 1921-24 approach through Tibet, encountering all the wild beauty and mystery of this unfamiliar culture, from the fields of wild clematis to the barren valley trails marked with stone shrines and inhabited by hermits whose self-denial seemed a waste of time to the mountaineers, although they appreciated in turn that the local people thought the same of their activities. Respectful of mountain deities and demons, the Tibetans even lacked a word for "summit".

With blow-by-blow day-to-day accounts, Wade Davis supplies often fascinating detail of the planning of the expeditions, problems over porters and pack animals, difficulties of surveying the mountains accurately to find a suitable route to the top, the relationships between the climbers – great camaraderie versus frequent friction-, the hardship and often foolhardy bravery of the ascents, the unappetising sound of the meagre rations of fried sardines and cocoa, agonies of frostbite, thirst, and having to turn back close to the summit rather than risk getting benighted on an exposed precipice and above all, the astonishing first sight of the high peaks when the unpredictable clouds and mists disappeared.

The author conveys a strong sense of what it must have felt like to climb: the grind, the exhilaration, the sudden unexpected accidents, the shock after surviving a fall, the exhaustion, the awareness of self-imposed folly, the total physical and mental collapse of some, for others the compulsion to press on.

I found it quite hard to follow the precise details of the routes with the various camps set up on the way, which is a pity as it destroys one's enjoyment of some key sections. I overcame this difficulty by looking up maps and cross-sections on Google Images, but it is a pity Wade Davis and his publisher did not agree to include these in the text, with appropriate photographs, or they could have developed a website to provide this useful information.

This book really brings home how much the early ascents were based on trial and error, and how commercial and political pressures added to a tendency to be over-ambitious, as climbers persisted in aiming for the summit with inadequate resources and preparation.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

Into The Silence: The Great War, Mallory and the Conquest of Everest